


Red Ledger, Bloody Ink

by Kate_Shepard



Series: Seeing Red [3]
Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Angst, Child Death, Gen, Origin Story, Renegade Shepard (Mass Effect), Rock Bottom - Freeform, Tenth Street Reds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-07
Updated: 2017-10-07
Packaged: 2019-01-10 07:40:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12294468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kate_Shepard/pseuds/Kate_Shepard
Summary: The Tenth Street Reds aren't happy with "Red" Shepherd's changes to the gang. They don't dare come after her directly, so they hit her where it will hurt the most, setting into motion events that will fundamentally change her. What will she do when she has nothing left to lose?Picks up two months after the events of "Seeing Red".





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fair warning: This story is **dark** and delves into topics that may best be left unexplored by some. It is _rare_ that I trigger warn, but this one touches on enough that I feel a head's up at least to prepare for multiple potential ones is in order. That said, for those following Kate's story who can stomach it, this is _the_ defining moment in young Red's life and there really is no way to make it pretty.

                                                                 

 

Red leaned against the doorframe of the living room, watching Gabe play with a pair of stuffed puppies in the early morning sunlight. He’d been pointing to pictures of dogs and running up to them on the street since the woman three doors down had come home with a Golden Retriever. The best she’d been able to do so far were toys, but Thane’s Illuminated Primacy connection had finally come through and if things went the way she hoped, there would be enough money for extras like dog food.

A puppy around the house might be good for the kids. She still had some of the credits Thane had left her with squirreled away, but she was hesitant to use it on anything unnecessary until she was certain there would be more. If she couldn’t guarantee her ability to feed the children, she certainly had no business adding another creature to the mix.

“How much is dat puppy in the window….” The small, soft voice broke her from her musings and made her gape at the boy in shock. “The one wif the wiggwly tail…” The tawny-haired boy made one of the stuffed dogs pounce the other. “How much is dat puppy in the window…” Red blinked, wondering if she was hearing correctly. “I do hope he is for sale…” Hot tears burned the back of her eyelids and her heart twisted.

Damn it, she was getting him a puppy. If that was what it took to make him talk, she’d get him a whole litter of puppies! She waved Abby over and motioned for the girl to be quiet as she activated her omni-tool to record the scene for Thane. He needed to see this. He’d made this possible. Gabe had never been comfortable at the house on Tenth Street. He was afraid of the older guys. He felt safe here. He’d bloomed in the security of the new house, the attention of his teachers at school, the friends he’d made despite his non-verbal nature. She hadn’t expected _this_ , though. She was getting a whole _litter_ of puppies for him.

Tears shimmered in Abby’s warm eyes and trickled down her dark cheeks. _He’s singing_ , she mouthed at Red. Gabe fell silent, the song complete, and the two girls withdrew deeper into the kitchen. Red held her hand up and Abby said, “Uuuuup top!” before hopping up to slap their hands together.

Red laughed and shook her head. “Okay, grasshopper, get the kids up. It’s time to get ready for school. What do you want for for breakfast?”

“Sausage, please!”

“Was that Gabe?” Abby hissed with a beaming smile.

Red laughed. “You want sausage, Gabe? I’ll cook you a whole stack of them!”

“Today is a good day,” Abby said, skipping toward the bedroom where the other children still slept. Her pompom hair bobbed with each jaunty step.

It _was_ a good day, Red decided. Gabe had spoken. Shawn had requested a meeting to discuss the results of the first weapons shipment to the Illuminated Primacy. The sun was shining. It was going to be a beautiful day. She sent the video to Thane along with a quick note thanking him again for his help.

She hadn’t heard from him in a few weeks, but he’d sent her an update on the omni-tool program she’d given him and a report on the new amp VI she’d installed on it. Both were working almost perfectly. The omni-tool still had a few bugs to work out, but they were minor. She needed to find a human biotic to test the amp VI on. That was the next step. If she could sell the omni-tool program, she and the kids would be set for life. The Illuminated Primacy deal would get the Reds permanently out of drugs. In a few more years, they could be completely legit. That had been a pipe dream before Thane.

Lucy and Jenna bolted from the bedroom hand-in-hand and darted up the stairs to her bathroom. Paul, Nate, and Denny skidded into their seats at the massive table in the dining room, their chairs screeching against the tile. She caught Johnny around the waist when he attempted to dart past her and turned on the sink. He groaned, but she held tight and wet a washcloth to wipe off the smudge he’d somehow acquired on his cheek since his shower last night. When he was clean, she released him and stacked the sausages onto a platter alongside a heap of eggs before going into the kids’ room to braid Cierra’s hair and help Kira tie her shoes.

“Nate, siedo!”[1] she called through the open doorway when the boy began to stand on his chair. He sat with a thump and crossed his arms. “Lucy, Jenna, vestiti![2] Sally, you can finish drawing after school. Put the pencil down. You’re going to be late, bambina[3].” Just another school morning in the crazy life of Red Shepherd.

She loved it. If her omni-tool program sold and she could guarantee the hanar deal with the Reds without being involved, she would leave the Reds and simply live here with her kids. There was no morgue rule. She could walk away. She’d gotten Alex listed as their guardian after Thane left so that they could stay here without the state breathing down their necks. It hadn’t been an issue on Tenth Street because the cops never came there, but this was a nice neighborhood and the neighbors were nosy. Alex would probably continue the charade even if she left the gang.

There was no reason to stay if she could support the children. And maybe someday, she could go to a real school herself. She was enrolled in a homeschool program, though she’d already finished high school level courses. She’d been taking classes MIT offered over the internet, but that didn’t confer a degree. If she was able to actually go...maybe she could drag all of them out of this life and into something better. Maybe she could overcome her beginnings after all. Abby was already talking about wanting to go to Harvard for law school and had found grant programs she could use as long as she kept her grades up through high school and she could, easily. For the first time in her life, Red had hope.

She got the children off to school and spent the day arranging the next shipment for the Illuminated Primacy. The first had been relatively small. This one was going to be more complicated to fill--what did a hanar need a Cain for anyway--but she was confident she could do it. When she’d figured out the logistics, she went to the grocery store to purchase the supplies for the lasagna she planned to make for dinner. It was Gabe’s favorite and she wanted to celebrate. She no longer got run off or even followed through most stores, though she occasionally was on the receiving end of a curious stare when they saw that she was alone. A simple claim that her father was housebound was generally enough to stave off further discussion.

The Reds wanted to meet during the day while school was still in session, so she unpacked the groceries and began the walk to Tenth Street. The guys, especially the new ones she’d integrated when Thane had been here, weren’t particularly happy about working with aliens, but she hoped they would fall in line once the credits started flowing. If not, she would just have to make examples of Finch and his crew for riling the others up. She didn’t want it to come to that. She was tired of everything being a damn battle. She wanted to enjoy the kids getting to live a semblance of the life she’d always wanted. She wanted to enjoy the home and family she’d created. If that meant she had to clean house to get it, though, she wouldn’t hesitate. Her new life may have tempered some of her rough edges, but they were still there.

The wind brought the scent of bloody meat to her before her eyes revealed the scene. She was running on leaden feet before the house came into view. Her heart skidded to a painful stop. Bile seared her throat, choking her. White noise filled her ears. It screeched across the inside of her skull. Someone was screaming, but she didn’t know who. Her eyes burned. Her lungs howled. Her mind fought to deny what was plainly in front of her. She turned and vomited into the grass alongside the broken sidewalk.

“No,” someone keened.

It occurred to her that it could only be her, but she would know if she was producing the soul-shattering sound ripping from someone’s lips, right?

“Nonononono. Oh, fuck, no. _Per favore_ , _dèi_ , no.[4] Goddess of oceans, no.”

It _was_ her. The sound ripping apart the daylight came from her mouth. She brought her hands up and fisted them in her hair, tearing at it in an attempt to override the searing madness burning through her soul. Her knees hit the pavement with a painful crack that did little to compete with the tearing of her heart.

“Fucking goddamn motherfucking... **_Nooo!!_** ” she screamed.

In front of her, hanging from ropes tied around blackened throats, were two small, lifeless bodies. Dull eyes glared at her, accusing her. Her fists clenched viciously in her hair as she doubled over, rocking back and forth with her forehead scraping the concrete. She couldn’t look again. She couldn’t let herself see. She couldn’t stand it, couldn’t live with it, couldn’t suck in another breath. Her soul was dying on a shattered concrete sidewalk in the center of Tenth Street.

She stumbled to her feet, staggering up the stairs, and clambered numbly up onto the sagging porch railing. Her boot knife sawed through the ropes, and she gingerly lowered the first body to the ground. She kept her eyes averted as she performed a search that had been too late long before she’d arrived. There was no pulse to find. The railing creaked in protest when she climbed onto it again and repeated the process with the other. The child’s curly pompoms were crushed and matted with drying blood, but she stroked them anyway.

“ _I miei bambini_ ,” she wailed. “My babies my babies. Oh, Abby, my Abby, oh, _dèi, cavalletta_ [5], grasshopper, no. Please. Please. Fuck, _per favore, dèi_ , no, not my babies.” She laid the girl’s head on her thigh and reached out, gathering the other small form to her chest. “My Gabe. My sweet boy.” He’d talked today. He’d talked today for the first time in years and now his voice was silenced forever. She smoothed down the cowlick that stubbornly refused to be tamed, and rocked him in her arms as sobs shattered in her throat and sent fire trailing down her cheeks.

She barely recognized them. If not for their hair, she wouldn’t have been certain of who they were. She turned her head and retched, expelling what little remained of her breakfast from that morning. Gods, had it only been that morning when she was getting them ready for school?

She laid them on the porch and crawled into the silent house. She found Alex in front of the door to the basement, sightless eyes gazing in shock at the ceiling, a ragged hole in his chest, thick blood pooled across the floor around him and splattered the door. His arms and legs were spread as if he’d been covering the door with his body. She closed his eyes with a choked sob before forcing herself down the stairs. She tripped twice and fell halfway down the staircase, gagging at the scent of raw meat and shit filtering up from below, before coming to rest in a heap at the bottom. 

 _Blood_.

Everywhere.

Floor. Walls. Ceiling.

Blood.

Thick and dark and fragrant, turning her haven into a slaughterhouse.

Here were the rest of them. She counted twice, praying to gods she didn’t believe in that they had missed at least one of them. But, no. They were all here, laid out on their old cots and tucked in under red-stained covers in a cruel parody of her typical care for them. Kira’s shoe was untied. Her laces were always coming undone. Red fixated on that, dragging herself across the sticky floor on limbs that refused to cooperate. Shaking hands tied the shoe as if fixing that one detail would take them back to this morning and give her the chance to try again.

How had this happened? Why? Where were the rest of the Reds? Tuco, Shawn, Riggs, Rodriguez, and the others? Were they all gone? Had whoever had done this gotten to them, too? Was she doomed to go into the tiny, barren backyard to find a heap of bodies? Was everyone in her world dead? There was nothing here but the reek of bloody meat, the sharp ammonia and foul scent of violent death. Shawn and the others were nowhere to be found.

She dragged herself onto the porch again and collected Abby and Gabe to her chest. “Let me wake up,” she whispered. “Please, gods, _svegliami_ [6]. I don’t want to be here anymore. Please, someone, _svegliami_.”

She removed the knife from her boot again, no longer able to tolerate the sight of the ropes around their necks, and cut them free. They were dead. Abby and Gabe were dead. Her eyes locked onto the blade before darting to her wrists, eyeing the thin, blue line between tendons distended from holding Abby’s body. It would be easy, so easy to join them. What point was there now? A single slash and it would be over. This pain would end. She was dead already, but her stubborn body refused to acknowledge it. She brought the tip of the knife to her skin and pressed down. Red seeped up around the metal.

“Meet you across the sea,” she whispered.

She took one last glance at Abby and froze with the blade still piercing her skin. There, almost hidden in the burned skin of the girl’s arm, were symbols carved into the flesh. A devil. A six-pointed star. Worst of all, a numeral one with a snake climbing it inside a circle. The Reds. The Reds did this. _Her own people_ murdered her kids. _Why_?

She shoved the knife back into her boot and pushed to her knees as the answer crystallized in her mind. The Reds were unhappy with the hanar deal. She’d destroyed the Chicago charter of the Bloody Devils, but it wasn’t the only one and the others were looking for revenge. Those two things might not have correlated in any other situation, but the Sixes hadn’t assimilated well enough into the Reds after she’d absorbed them. She hadn’t devoted enough attention to making sure they did. She’d left that to Alex and Shawn, too caught up in the future to see what was happening in the present. They were too afraid to come after her directly, so they’d taken the one thing that mattered to her. They’d taken her _babies_.

She struggled to her feet with Abby’s lean frame and carried her into the house. Her shoes thudded dully down the stairs, but her steps were steady. She laid Abby on her cot and tucked her in like the rest, pressing a kiss to her ruined forehead. Gabe received the same treatment, but not until she’d washed the blood from his hair and slicked down the cowlick that refused to be tamed. When her children were put to bed, she straightened and walked up the stairs.

There would be no coroner, no police investigation, no morgue, no closed casket. The Tenth Street Reds would be their funeral pyre, ash and dust their memorial. By the time she was finished here, the Reds would be nothing more than a memory, a warning to those who would touch what belonged to her.

Her enemies had slaughtered her sheep and there would be hell to pay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Sit down  
> 2\. Get dressed  
> 3\. Baby girl  
> 4\. Please, gods, no.  
> 5\. Grasshopper  
> 6\. Wake me up.


	2. Chapter 2

The Reds didn’t return that day or the next. The ratty curtain in Tuco’s apartment twitched on occasion, but the street remained silent. There would be no official investigation, no sanctioned punishment for what they'd done. No one called the cops in a place like this, and they probably wouldn't come even if someone did risk the gang's ire to do so. Red left the house only to acquire the supplies she needed and did so under the cover of darkness. When the trap was laid, she banked the fire that had kept her going thus far and staggered across the pavement to the dilapidated tenement lurking like a gargoyle over the gritty street.

Inside, the familiar, cloying scents of curry, unwashed bodies, stale pot, and discarded trash burned her nostrils. Doors closed as she dragged herself through the hallway, letting her feet catch on the wrinkled, torn carpet, trailing her fingers along the greasy, water-stained wallpaper. A dog barked inside one of the units, but fell silent after she passed. Voices from vid screens blended into a murmur. Through one of the walls, she heard a woman berating a child. She found Tuco’s apartment with its tarnished brass 37 hanging crookedly on the door.

“Lorena,” she croaked, slapping her palm on the door. “Lorena, _please_.”

The door opened to reveal the closest thing to a mother she’d ever known. The woman’s dark hair spiraled around oversized curlers. Her faded blouse sagged at the neck, revealing a tiny golden crucifix. Lorena opened her plump arms and Red fell into them, burying her face in the woman’s ample bosom. Her shoulders heaved. Her breath came in great, wracking sobs.

“They’re dead,” she wailed, feeling Lorena’s arms come around her. “They’re all dead!”

“I know, chica,” Lorena said, walking them backward into the living room. “I saw. Tuco ran. He didn’t help. I promise you, Red. We didn’t help.”

“You saw what they d-did?” she hiccupped. “Why didn’t you c-call m-me?” 

“I was afraid, Red,” she said, directing her to the couch. “Shawn said anyone who stood in their way would end up like the niños. He would have killed me if I’d called you. There was nothing you could have done. There were too many of them.”

“Who?” she cried, fisting her hands in Lorena’s shirt. “Who did this to my babies?”

“Everyone,” Lorena sighed. “Alex tried to protect the children. They killed him. It was a madhouse, Red. They were like beasts.”

“I can’t _breathe_ , Lorena. It hurts so _much_ ! They were my _kids_!” She released Lorena and curled into herself on the lumpy couch, clutching her hair and rocking back and forth. “It should have been me. It should have been me.”

Lorena’s hand came to rest on her back, smoothing circles into Red’s dirty shirt. “They were too afraid to face you directly.”

“But I’m just one girl!” she shouted. “I’m just one! I couldn’t take all of them. I wouldn’t have fought them if it meant saving my fucking _babies_. They were just kids, Lorena! Kira couldn’t even tie her shoes yet!”

“I know, chica. I know,” Lorena said. “What are you going to do?”

 _Kill them all_.

“I can’t do it anymore. I can’t take it. I don’t want to live like this, Lorena.” She looked up, letting the woman see the tears welling in her green eyes. “I don’t want to live in a world they’re not in.”

“Suicide, chica?” Lorena asked, clutching the crucifix. “You cannot! Your soul…”

_Is already dead._

“No,” she said, turning to stare blankly at the vid screen propped on a wobbly nightstand across the room. “I’m going to let the Reds do it. Let them finish the job. They’re all I have. It’s only right that they be the ones to do it. I need your help.”

“Don’t do this, Red,” Lorena implored. “You don’t need to do this. You can--”

“What?” she asked dully. “What can I do? I can’t stay here. I have nowhere to go. I have no family. I have no friends. I’m not even old enough to drive yet. Where can I go? Back into the system? No one wants me. I’m nothing. I’m no one. I can’t even stay here with you and Tuco or they’ll kill you, too. No. I’m done. I’m tired, mamma. I just want to be with them. I want to go be with my babies.”

“You don’t have to do this,” Lorena repeated.

“I do,” she said. “Call them. Tell them...bring everybody. I’ll officially step down, pass the reins to Shawn. When the party’s over, they can have me. Whatever they want. Just...send me home.” She wrapped her arms around her upturned knees and cried.

“I will send the message,” Lorena sighed. “You should eat. And shower. You haven’t left that house in two days. You smell like death.”

“‘m not hungry,” she muttered into her knees.

“You’ll eat anyway,” Lorena said, turning to food for comfort in this as she did in everything else. “Your blood sugar is going to crash. You can’t do this if you’re passed out on the floor. You need something, even if it’s just cookies. I have your favorites.”

“Cinnamon raisin?” she asked in a small voice, peeking up over her elbow.

“With oatmeal,” Lorena confirmed, flashing a smile for the first time since Red had arrived. She got up and went into the tiny kitchen, humming softly as she moved around the cramped room. Red fell over onto her side with her arms still around her knees, and watched the woman through her auburn lashes.

“Will you come with me, mamma?” she asked, rubbing the heels of her hands over her eyes, when Lorena returned with the plate of cookies. Her stomach turned, but Tuco’s mom was right. She needed her strength for what was to come and she couldn’t eat in that reeking house.

“What did you do with the...children?” Lorena asked.

“I took them to the backyard. The boys will need to bury them. I tried, but I’m not strong enough. I couldn’t get the hole deep enough,” she said, plucking a cookie from the plate and cautiously nibbling it.

“And the smell?” Lorena asked.

“I cleaned and opened windows,” she said. “It’s not bad anymore.”

“Then I will come, chica,” Lorena said, looking at her with sad eyes that had already seen too much.


	3. Chapter 3

Red sat beside Lorena in the living room of the rowhouse, surrounded by people she’d called family only days ago. They’d come, as she’d known they would, to see her broken. They wanted to watch her bleed, to taste her pain. When had they begun to hate her so passionately? She had known some were afraid of her, but how had she so thoroughly mistaken loathing for respect? Had she been that desperate to have a family, to be admired, to be _someone_?

There were procedures in place for members who chose to leave. A member in good standing who’d broken no rules could walk away at any time. Technically, she qualified. Another rule they’d fought against. The morgue rule had been in play when she’d taken over. The only way out was in a pine box. Tonight would serve as the transition. There was only one way out tonight, and she was taking as many motherfuckers with her as she could.

Shawn, sprawled out in her chair, gestured at her with a beer bottle. “Think the General’s got somethin’ to say,” he slurred.

Red sniffed and wiped her nose with the back of her hand as she unfolded herself from the couch. Lorena squeezed her elbow in silent support. She stood and looked around the room at the people she’d called brothers. The house was as packed as she’d seen it since the night she’d taken over. The house was their base of operations, but it was rare that everyone was here at the same time. She’d finally dragged names from Lorena. They were almost all here. No Finch, the goddamn coward. Everyone else, though, was present. The Reds, the former Sixes, and their wives, girlfriends, boyfriends, and hangers-on. No children. Maybe that would be enough to redeem her in Kalahira’s eyes if the gods were real. Maybe not.

Her chin trembled and she tucked her hands into the pockets of her hoodie. Her fingers brushed the device in her pocket and found the concave button in the center. She could wait. The families would leave later so that the members could carry out their plan for her. They hadn’t done anything to her. They hadn’t known, still didn’t know, about the tiny, reeking bodies in the basement. She’d covered the scent of them as well as she could, but the odor still lingered on the upper floors, drawing vicious grins from those who knew and wrinkled noses from those who didn’t. Plentiful alcohol had been enough to overcome any hesitation and eventually dull their senses. The innocents would leave, but where was the punishment in that?

“You took away my family. You took away everything that mattered. Sally. Johnny. Cierra. Lucy. Jenna. Paul. Georgie. Nate. Denny. Kira. Gabe. Abby, _Alex_. I don’t want to be a Red anymore. Vaffanculo, tutti voi e i tuoi antenati bastardi morti.[1]” Her finger depressed the button. She would take their families the way they’d taken hers. 

“What’s she talking about?” a thin-haired blonde with protruding teeth hissed up at Rodriguez.

Rodriguez nudged the woman sharply with a booted foot. “Shut up.”

“Amonkira, lord of hunters...” _Ten...nine...eight..._

Shawn’s brow drew down in confusion.

“Grant that my hands be steady, my aim be true, and my feet swift…”  _Seven...six...five…_  

“The fuck are you doing, Red?” Shawn demanded, leaning forward and propping his beefy forearms on his knees. The beer bottle dangled from his fingertips.

They weren’t entirely stupid. They would figure it out. And then they would have an idea of the pain she felt. They would know, but there was nothing they could do to stop her. The countdown was almost done. She could have run. She’d had time.

“And should the worst come to pass…” _Four...three...two...one...._

The door opened. Finch? _Just in time. Let's roll._

“...Grant me forgiveness.”

Tuco said, “Sorry I’m late, Red.”

She had just enough time to look over at him in horror. He wasn’t supposed to be here. He hadn’t helped. He hadn’t stood back and watched the way Lorena had. He’d run.

Before she could warn him to run again, the room fractured in a blinding flash. A breath later, the shattering roar reached her ears, ringing them as the explosives she’d planted tore through walls and brought the ceiling crashing down.

Heat licked at her skin before withdrawing, leaving an almost pleasant warmth behind. Something fell over her ass, pinning her in place. She pressed her hands against the dirty floor and closed her eyes, breathing in the smoke and filth. The shepherd would die here with her slaughtered sheep.

The weight lifted off of her and hands hooked painfully under her armpits. She thrashed, fighting the drag across the grimy carpet.

“Easy, Red!” Tuco shouted. “I’ve got you! Just hold on! I’m going to get you out of here!”

“No!” she screamed, trying to jerk out of his grip. “Leave me!”

The air cracked and popped around her, the fire a living thing, roaring and growling, hissing and squealing, singing and screaming out her rage and pain more clearly than she ever could have done on her own. The living room was an inferno. Pale gray smoke curled across the broken ceiling. Glass shattered somewhere with a whoosh that danced the flames. The plastic base of the overturned lamp on the end table near the hall dripped onto the floor.

Voices howled in agony. Someone--Shawn? Lorena? she couldn’t tell--ran across the room, a living torch spreading flame to the couch she’d been sitting on minutes before. Someone else rolled, trying in vain to rid themselves of the fire licking at their clothing. She’d expected meat. She’d imagined the scent of a barbecue. Instead, the air reeked a combination of burnt popcorn and scorched coffee that made her stomach turn.

“Let me go, Tuco!” she ordered as he crawled with her through the open doorway. “I want to see! I need to see!”

He threw her over the railing of the porch and shouted, “ _Mom!! Where are you?_ ”

“Tuco, stop!” she shouted.

He ignored her, throwing a forearm up to shield his face, and diving into the flaming room. Someone else fell through the window, rolling across the porch to land where she’d held Abby and Gabe. His...her... _its_ hair was on fire. It was no longer a person. It was a screaming candle, and as its flesh seared, she felt the sudden urge for bacon. She watched with a horrific, gleeful fascination, forgetting for a moment that she was supposed to be inside, burning with them.

Tuco hadn’t come out. No one had come out. No one would come out. Tuco shouldn’t have come. He hadn’t been invited. She hadn’t wanted him there. Lorena was different. She’d watched. She shouldn’t have done that. She shouldn’t have fucking watched a group of men brutally murder a dozen children. She should have called. She should have run. She should have died like Alex did. Fear wasn’t an excuse. For that matter, she realized, Tuco hadn’t warned her, either. Good riddance, then. Now, it was her turn. She raced up the steps, bracing herself for the cleansing pain.

And the heat drove her back.

Her mind screamed at her to go in, to join her babies, to die along with them and finish her revenge. She loathed herself as much as she did the Reds. She should have been here. She should have saved them. She should have made sure that no one but she or Alex could pick them up from school. She should have known they weren’t safe there. Nowhere was safe. She’d let herself forget that.

This was _her fault_. She’d been too late. She hadn’t saved them. They’d died because of her. She’d been too soft. She’d gone too easy. She’d let her guard down and she’d trusted the Reds. That had been her mistake and her children had paid the price. It was her turn to die, too. The ledger was still red, their names written in bloody ink.

Her body, however, refused the commands of her mind. She threw herself against the wall of heat, willing herself to go in, and fell back time and again, her feet retreating farther from the blaze as it expanded outward. She ended up in the grass, watching the flames jet through the window and roll up to the roof. She stayed there as walls collapsed, rafters crashing through the floors in a shower of sparks that enveloped her. She stood rooted until there was nothing left but ash and embers and the gray sky picked up the flames that had finally run out of fuel below.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Fuck you, all of you and your dead bastard ancestors.


	4. Chapter 4

When it was done, she trudged aimlessly down the empty street until she reached the house Thane had gotten them. Walking into the empty, silent house opened her chest and left a trail of agony like bloody paint in her wake. Dishes still sat in the sink from breakfast the last morning she’d been truly alive. The door to the kids’ room stood ajar. She closed it without looking inside. Her filthy shoes dragged over stairs that would never again reverberate with the pounding slap of little feet.

She went into her bedroom and stared at the wall as she tried to decide what to do next. She hadn’t anticipated returning here. She wasn’t supposed to be here. She was supposed to be a pile of anonymous bones on Tenth Street. Pain flashed over into fury and she ruptured into a whirlwind of chaos and destruction. Blue lightning flickered over her skin, uncontrolled biotic power she didn’t know how to harness searching for an exit.

She ripped her reeking clothing off and tore the closet door half off the hinges in search of...something. She didn’t know. She couldn’t think. She slammed her forehead against the wall, feeling plaster shatter under the blow. Her nose popped and the tang of blood filled her mouth. She savored it, wanting more. She wanted to bleed out all over the room, to drain the poison that burned through her veins. Her wild eyes fell on the datapad holding the information for her omni-tool. She ripped it off of the shelf and threw it at the window, cracking the glass. It wasn’t enough. It would never be enough. She spit blood onto the carpet and spun around in search of a target.

_She wasn’t supposed to fucking be here!_

She could fix that. She didn’t need to burn. She just needed to die. She stumbled into the bathroom and began yanking drawers from the cabinet, searching madly for what she needed. The reflection in the mirror was insane. Wide, wild emerald eyes too big for her face. Singed hair the color of the flames, standing out in all directions. Milky pale skin stained with soot, dotted almost comically with freckles standing out like bloodstains on her cheeks. Blackened, crusted clothes hanging from a too-small frame. She didn’t know this girl. She didn’t recognize her. She didn’t give a damn. Her hand closed over the razor.

She cut her fingers prying the blade from the housing, but finally got it free and sank down on the bathroom floor with it pinched between her fingertips. She’d already made her plan, earlier on the porch of the rowhouse. One slash. One slice and it would be over. She would go to the sea. If gods had more mercy than men, she might even be allowed to see them again. She pressed the blade to her wrist and slashed before she could lose her nerve.

It sliced through her skin, leaving a furious burgundy line that was almost instantly covered by hot, red liquid. She watched it spill over her wrist and forearm to pool on the floor, but blinked in confusion. Venous blood was dark. This wasn’t. Arterial blood was bright and sprayed. There was no pulse to this. There was no force. She’d missed the blood vessel and now she couldn’t see clearly enough to find it and she couldn’t use her left hand to slice the right wrist. She’d fucked this up, too.

 _Can’t even kill_ myself _right. The fuck good am I?_

Bleeding out from this would take longer than her courage would allow. She grabbed a towel from the rack by the sink and tied it tightly around her wrist before digging through discarded drawers for a pack of medigel. She’d fix it now and try again later. Figure out how to do it right. She smeared the medigel on the painful wound and sank back against the bathtub, savoring the burn in her arm as she waited for it to set. When it did, she crawled into the shower and turned on the water without bothering to remove the tattered remains of her clothing.

She wrapped her arms around her upraised knees and under the cover of the water, she let herself cry.  

Red woke to frigid water pounding down on her trembling limbs and slapped at the controls until it turned off. Clumsily, she got to her feet, ignoring the mess, and trudged into the bedroom. She dressed by rote, paying little attention to what she put on. She needed to find oblivion again, but she was awake now, alert to the screaming nuances of the gaping hole where her heart had once been.

The afternoon light was fading and disappeared as she walked. She found the entrance to the underground and made her way through without truly seeing where she was going. She’d told Thane once that anything could be found down here. Yesterday--was it yesterday or longer than that or today--it was explosives. Today, she was in search of something else, anything that would dull the pain.

She found it in a visiting turian. He offered her money and she took it because that was what she did. She took. She took his hands and more as well and for a few minutes, the pain receded. And when he was finished, she took the baggie his credits bought her and trudged back toward the place that would never again be home.


End file.
